


a blessing for the road (for i'm leaving this behind)

by jaylove



Series: coming home at last [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Road and Neah have entirely run out of fondness and tolerance for each other, and also i've lost control at this point, even if he's unconscious for the vast majority of it, mostly centered around Allen, there's some mention of wounds but it's somewhat vaguer than the last one, this is like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:29:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylove/pseuds/jaylove
Summary: a collection of Allen nearly waking/waking as different caretakers watch over him; the Noah doing their level best to suppress Neah completely and give Allen time to heal before the painful process of, truly, becoming one of thempicks up not long after the events of find me in a kinder world





	1. nearly three weeks in

The first time he begins to wake is a slow, foggy affair.

Road is perched precariously in a chair by his bedside; her shoes are kicked in a corner, feet pressed on a small table's edge, allowing her to tilt the chair back. She rocks, absentminded. Someone would be forgiven for thinking she's at a state of a maximum boredom, a textbook open across her lap, tapping her pen rhythmically as she carefully reads over the material. But she's missed multiple days of study by that point - and if there's one thing she can say in their favor, humans  _are_ rapidly evolving. It's only common sense to keep up with them.  
  
The pen pauses. 

She leans back with a soft groan, just  _barely_ not rocking the chair back too far. Sitting by, at the end of the slow process of burying Neah, had been much for interesting before Allen started properly dreaming. Even  _she_ wasn't willing to invade that far into his privacy.   
  
(It was more favorable without Neah throwing shared memories in her face, as well.)  
  
The girl is about to go back to her book when she stills, a shiver running down her spine. Her chair drops back onto all four legs with a near deafening noise. She's already standing beside the bed again, scowl on her usually playful face, book abandoned haphazardly on the floor. The other problem with giving Allen a little mental space; it was pure trying to remain aware of his mental state.   
  
"No," she all but commands him, "absolutely not." It's hard to convince herself the tiredness isn't leaking into her voice. Wisely had been basically sentenced to bed rest, the poor thing had been so exhausted. No matter how much stronger, or how much more experienced, she was, she still had a limit to the continued use of her powers. And continued consciousness. Her foul expression strengthens as the boy starts trying to shift along the bed. Hands closing in a near death grip on his left arm, she does her best to will his fluttering eyelids to still again. "Could you stop being such a stupid martyr for _five more minutes_?" Allen can't hear her, not really, but she growls the words all the same.   
  
His breathing is beginning to quicken, growing shallower and more labored. Road's teeth grit from a lash of concern. The long process of the transformation has to stay halted until Neah is  _thoroughly_ locked away. If Allen's genes try to continue it, she won't be able to do anything, not alone nor in her current state.   
  
She forces her own breath out slow. Calming.  
  
Neah's memory flickers excitedly, as if sensing her faltering, and that's all it takes to steady her resolve again.  
  
(No one had ever really taught her how to share, and she didn't much plan to learn now.)  
  
Road smooths a hand over Allen's eyes, letting her own slip closed. "Alright, fine. I know who might make you be less stubborn." She conjures the image -  _actually, not too bad of taste, aside from the whole CROW thing_  - and lets it slide from her mind to Allen's. His breathing noticeably stutters. Then, to her great relief, his mind takes the bait and settles into the forced slumber again. She isn't sure whether to be slightly disgusted, or just impressed at how much  _hold_ the man holds over her favored exorcist.  
  
The Noah girl does refuse to be thankful, though. She won't stoop that low.  
  
"You can be difficult for Wisely later," she promises Allen, cheer a little strained. Her form hesitates until she's absolutely certain nothing will happen again. Only then does she sigh, allowing her shoulders to slump as she falls back into the chair.  
  
Sometimes she wished she were as useless as the other idiots.


	2. four weeks in

"Stop," Wisely commands without even looking up. It's the fourth time that hour alone. Devit's been keeping a tally.  
  
"Uh, should someone find the little brat?" He voices the question - more an offer - awkwardly. A hand scratches at the back of his hair, a single foot tapping hurriedly. He isn't sure how the other two can stand it, sitting here keeping watch over Walker, day in and day out. Just a few hours and he's a mess of nervous energy. It's not even a requirement that he keep still. Wisely doesn't really give a shit about any of it, barely acknowledges Devit unless actively addressed. He'd paced most of the room countless times. He'd alternated from standing, to sitting in a chair, to sitting on the floor, to  _squatting._ He'd started a restless tapping at some point, alternating irregularly to rapidly tracing patterns across his leg. Another hour or so, he figured he'd be pulling his hair out.  
  
And the whole while, Wisely just continued to sit, legs crossed like a child, at the head of Walker's bed. The soundless tapping of a single finger against a knee was basically the Noah's only movement.  
  
_Other than_ -  
  
Wisely reaches out and, without his gaze even flickering away from the magazine, flicks one of Walker's ears. "I said stop," it's the scolding tone of a mother - or, it's the voice Lulu Bell and the Earl use on Devit sometimes, the way Road occasionally talks to Jasdero. An observer could only guess how much affect it's having. Wisely gives a good-natured hum in the next moment, flipping a page before actually responding to the earlier question. "It might be amusing to see her rip your head off," it's a mused comment,  _presumably_ just joking, and quickly followed up with a more sincere note.  
  
(Wisely still has a lazy quality of voice that suggests consistent amusement. It's only been missing a couple of times, as far as Devit's heard. Hard to say. Wisely hasn't actually been with them long, and of that time, a good chunk of it so far has been spent at Walker's bedside. Devit can really only hazard a guess at anything going on up there.) 

"Let her sleep," Wisely's dropped to more of a murmur, eyes half-lidded, "she needs it."  
  
Devit had witnessed her being dragged back off to bed by Mikk earlier, when she'd tried to check in on Allen, so he knew that. There had never been bags under her eyes before. It was - unsettling, to say the very least.  
  
He finally does what he's been half avoiding the whole time. The usual instinctive pull is there, but it seems weird to approach the kid while Allen's in such a vulnerable state, given their past. It was a weird feeling, having someone he'd tried so hard to kill before now be family. But he approaches the sleeping exorcist all the same.

"Are you sure? He seems like he's trying damn hard to wake up," the hand not bouncing restlessly curls at his side.  
  
Weird too to be away from Jasdero this long, but they were each needed elsewhere right now.  
  
(Actually, Devit wasn't sure  _why_ he was here, other than to make sure Wisely didn't get close to fritzing like before.)  
  
Wisely snorts,  _finally_ looking up from the magazine to consider both of them. The thing Devit love/hates about the new Noah of Wisdom was how Wisely acted smarter than everyone else, like too many people to name, but Wisely was also  _correct_  in that assumption. The former street rat also didn't care how crass the twins got. It was a welcome change. He stretches his legs out along the bed, sighing with relief at finally shifting.   
  
"Nah, he's good and out," in true  _can't-keep-hands-to-self_  Noah fashion, he runs his fingers carefully through Allen's snow white hair as he speaks. "Neah's locked away pretty tightly. And after the Earl - " He stops himself, meets Devit's eyes in a genuinely sheepish smile. "Sorry,  _Mana_. Still getting used to that."

"Dude, if you just call him by that name, I won't have a fuckin' clue who you mean," Devit admits it freely.   
  
There were a lot of adjustments being made. Strange time to be a Noah.  
  
(The notion is entertained, for a moment by Devit, that they both squint at Walker in a clear expression of  _how the Hell?_ )  
  
Wisely chuckles good-naturedly, fingers still carding carefully through the kid's hair. "Anyways. Mana sat by him a while a couple days ago, and that seemed to make him finally relax somewhat. We're just giving his body a chance to rest before we let the transformation start. And uh," they both glance uncomfortably to the bandaged wound on Walker's torso, " _that_ may include moving him somewhere very, very excluded. Mana's apparently took nearly two weeks - "  
  
" _Yikes_ ," Devit exclaims, as horrified as he is sympathetic.  
  
" - so it's going to be bad, and it'll probably be long." He finally stops the motion, as if suddenly realizing he'd fallen into the rhythm longer than intended, and smiles fondly at the subject. That's another good thing about Wisely; the bastard isn't shy with his warmth. "Right  _now_  it's just an effort of keeping his dreams - positive." Devit gives a snort of agreement.  
  
He realizes his hand has gone still. He looks down.  
  
His face begins a slow flush of absolute horror as he realizes the hand has gently closed around Walker's arm - the _Innocence_ one, no less.  
  
The door to the room slams shut behind him a few seconds later.


	3. one month, one week in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a quick warning: there's a short implication of being choked within a dream here, just one line, but i figure it's worth a juuuuust in case
> 
> also there's an injury but, vague

(Faintly, he knows it's going to be a nightmare as soon as his eyes open inside the dream state. But it's like a fever dream - he can't make himself wake from it.  
  
The setting is unimportant, out of focus, and he feels his breath catching as Link - no, as  _Howard_  begins smiling at him, eyes softening in the expression. Allen's head is spinning, the stupid and reckless way it always does in these moments. His feet might very well be bolted to the spot. The man's hand lifts, cupping Allen's face with all the gentleness in the world. And he could cry from the tender sweetness of the moment. It's always a fight not to, a constant battle of insisting to the voice inside his mind that he has a right to be -  _cherished_ , since he can't bring himself to use the other word. But maybe he deserves that as well.  
  
It's less like Allen turns, more like someone spins the world around him till Link is behind him.  
  
And Lvellie is under ten feet away, smile as sickly sweet as poison, eyes that could put a Level 4's cruelty to shame.  
  
There's a serrated blade digging just below his diaphragm. And there's a hand tight around his neck.  
  
He thinks he starts crying, starts screaming, helpless and hopeless and somehow still not surprised -  
  
and it shifts.  
  
_Her blonde hair is thick as a snow cloud around her head, a direct opposite to the stream-smoothness of the other woman. They're both leaning over a bed, and as their bodies shift further apart, Allen can spot himself. Thrashing and crying out hoarsely, eyes opened a crack but blurred beyond color. Red is starting to bloom against white bandages. As if following the direction of his dream's attention, Tevak notices it and lets out a yelp. She's quickly distracted again by trying to keep him pinned; trying to stop him from hurting himself further, and also trying to keep him from knocking either of them away._  
  
_He has the faded thought that he's vaguely impressed by his own apparent strength in the moment._  
  
_He also realizes how extremely embarrassing the tears spilling rapidly from his eyes are._  
  
_"Mistress Noah," Tevak gasps out, barely catching his hand in time to dodge an unknowing hit, "should Lady Road and Master Wisely be sent for?" There's pain on her face as she gazes down at him, but it's of a more emotional source, and he catches how she bites her lip._  
  
_Tevak - who he has maybe swapped all of three words with - is on the verge of tears. For him._  
  
_Lulu Bell, the Noah in question, shakes her head. Her teeth are clenched tight, and he realizes she's making no effort to hide her own crying. "It would be pointless. After Neah's surprise, they're still too exhausted. There's nothing they can do." She manages to pin his shoulders. There's a sharp cracking noise, an echo of pain through Allen's consciousness, and Lulu Bell barely suppresses what seems to be a sob. Even with at least one broken bone, his body still desperately fights. The Noah manages to look up at Tevak as his temporary restraint gives them a chance to breathe. Her voice is softer than he might've expected, a warmth that reminds him vaguely of Komui._  
  
_"We're counting on your family right now," Lulu tells the girl, "your connection with Allen is the only thing keeping him even remotely under control." A leg kicks up and a sharp scream rips from the boy, body bucking up hard enough to actually throw Lulu Bell from the bed._  
  
_Tevak can't hide her trembling lip. As the Noah curses, she abandons the effort to try and still him. Her hands take gentle hold of his head. Distantly, Allen thinks he can feel the warmth, the tingle of her touch across his dreamself. His pure **howling** doesn't seem to deter her as she leans down, presses her forehead to his own. Tevak's eyes close tightly enough it must surely hurt. He can't make it out through the dream - or perhaps vision - but he can see her mouth move in a murmur._  
  
_And just like that, his frame stills._  
  
_Tokusa and Goushi both burst through the door a second later, breathing heavily, faces paled from concern. They watch in muted amazement as the last twitches go through Allen's settling limbs. Tevak is hesitant as she pulls away, rising to her feet again._

 _The smaller male reaches forward to pull her into a tight embrace. She promptly bursts into mournful cries._  
  
His dreaming ends for a while longer.)


	4. roughly two months in

The first thing he is aware of, in a very vague sense of the word, is the certainty of nighttime deep in his bones.  
  
Everything seems to halt as he's pulled back to consciousness. Faint light behind his eyelids, softness of bedsheets beneath him.  
  
Everything at a halt.  
  
He bursts upright with a strangled gasp, regretting it immediately. The bursts of pain are indescribable. A numb, crackling sting in his right shoulder; throbbing inside his skull that threatens to rob the world of all sound; and, of course, his abdomen. Where it feels like a threat has been fulfilled in the form of his insides being ripped out through a relatively small wound. He considers, for a rather weak second, if getting up is truly worth the pain just being conscious consists of. The  _fight or flight_ urge he learned the hard way wins out, ultimately. He makes an effort to both pry open his eyes and properly sit up.

" _Nuh uh,_ " immediately provides answers to the attempt. One set of hands gently tugs him back down, while the speaker's push at him softly, warm over the fabric of his shirt.  
  
(Oh, he finally has a shirt on again. That's a nice change.)  
  
Alma Karma's face is what comes into focus first. It's an endearing expression; brow furrowed, lips pursed as the dark gaze clearly darts all across Allen's own face. Tyki is the next thing to properly materialize. There's more obvious relief on the Noah's countenance, and shadows starting to underline the man's eyes. Seemingly content that Allen has reached the, frankly, brilliant decision to lie still for fear of throwing up, Tyki stands a little back, arms folded. Allen has the self-awareness to wonder how long he's been asleep, and how long it had been since the dream/vision.  
  
He does not, however, have the strength of will to control which thoughts become voiced.

"You're an Akuma," he rather dumbly tells Alma.  
  
The elder's -  _er, sort of elder's?_  - lips twitch. This face is much more pleasant than the designated counterpart's. "Yes," Alma confirms it for the boy, which is a very nice gesture, given Allen's current state. Brown eyes crinkle at their corners. Expression relaxed, now.  
  
"Your soul," Allen starts, licks his lips subconsciously, then realizes that wasn't a very enlightening remark. "I can't see it?" He's not sure if it was meant to be a question or not. The pillow is beginning to feel very soft, and Alma is radiating a very pleasant heat. His brain is starting to feel full of cotton. 

"Ma - " Alma gives Tyki a surly look, before the Noah can get out enough to make the word clear. "Uh. The Earl, he removed the curse. Thought it would ... be a bit nicer." They're exchanging an expression somewhere between nerves and discomfort. Tyki shifts uncertainly.  
  
They're probably leaving something out, he's experienced enough to know, but his mind slowly churns in an entirely different direction.  
  
"The Earl sounds like my father," he declares it plainly to the black ceiling. For what seems several small eternities, Allen just stares upwards, slowly turning the jumbled words around in his head. Alma's hand lays warm atop his left shoulder. He finally lets his head fall back to the side, silver eyes blinking, emotionless, at the Akuma. "Why does the Earl sound like my father?" His fingers start to twist into the fabric beneath him, eyebrows moving to knit together. Further awareness threatens at the edges of his mind. A - thought, realization perhaps, just floating at the corner. Barely out of reach. If he could just -  
  
Tyki steps forward then, large hand falling companionably on Allen's head. Unbidden, those blurry eyes begin to flutter, fighting now to stay awake. "You're still tired, boy," the man's voice is a soft rumble, rich with accent. "It's not time yet for you to be awake." The hand doesn't remove itself, just shifts to spread across the crown of Allen's head, pillowed by the boy's soft hair.  
  
Alma makes an agreeing noise. Carefully, he leans forward, ghosting a kiss atop the bridge of Allen's nose.  
  
(Allen tries to recall any memory with similarity to the moment, but all that comes to mind is the hum of Anita's voice. His heart aches.)  
  
"Go to sleep," Alma says, and Allen immediately does as told.  
  
The Akuma and Noah share pinched looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it isn't clear by the end of this all, Mana/the Earl has full memory, and also is well aware Allen is his son ... as are all the Noah, Thirds, and Seconds, by this point, which is why Tyki and Alma are so uncomfortable
> 
> (don't try to tell me alma wouldn't adopt allen. don't. i refuse to listen to reason on this.)


End file.
